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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28015155">Eye for an Eye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GVNART/pseuds/GVNART'>GVNART</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conflict Resolution, Explicit Language, Father-Son Relationship, argument</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28015155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GVNART/pseuds/GVNART</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With Aela's resurgence at its prime, Sera has every intention of hunting her down and finally putting an end to her. It's up to Harph to step up and take matters into his own hands, with help from Sera's new family, if he is to take the burden off of his son. Though it will take convincing to get him on board with it too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eye for an Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harph stands out in front of the canals in the middle of the Stormwind evening. Just in front of the Waning Flame building. Smoke puffing from a cigar into the air, crawling upwards toward the moon that illuminated the dirty water below him. He stands still, feeling uneasy about recent events to say the least. His gut swirls with anxiety at what was to come. If the burning of his house was just the least of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further down the street comes Seratoph. Dressing in a jacket and tight fitting pants, with a cape and a hood to go along with it. Pulled up over his head, concealing him from everyone besides the most watchful of eyes. He spots Harph and despite having been searching for him, he feels frozen. He doesn’t want this confrontation. Under normal circumstances, he would put it off to think more. But he has to now, his hand forced with what he has discovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera approaches at his side, both of them knowing each other is just right next to them but continuing to stare out into the near empty city nonetheless. “I know what’s going on now.” Sera finally breaks that silence, his tone like a blunt sledgehammer. “The cult. You. Iri. All of it.” While he still holds some resentment in his voice, a good portion of it has subsided over the past few days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph does not know how to respond. Unable to look him in the eye still as he swallows. Finally spitting something out to fill his turn of the response out. “Yeah… Look, I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should’ve told me earlier. You’re going to deal with it. I’m not. Yeah.” Sera cuts him off briefly. “I know. Iri and I already talked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older man is left with his jaw hanging open for a moment before collecting himself. “Right. I’m sorry.” He speaks while Sera finds himself glancing up toward him. There is still a boiling rage inside of him. One not aimed at anyone else in the Flame, but Harph knew who. “Do you not like that idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera shakes his head. “No. Not really.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I was honestly thinking of going dark for a few weeks. Picking them off. Maybe take some friends along, like Skully. Then fucking Aela up myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Harph’s interactions with Eeris have not been great impressions, he couldn’t argue that he seemed capable of knocking a couple of heads together if needed. But he knew Aela as a different sort of beast. There was torture methods he knows of that were far less painful than a fight against her. “Sera, you… I don’t mean to tell you what you can and can’t do, but this isn’t right for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera shrugs his shoulders, familiar with the line of thinking. “That’s what I keep hearing. Suddenly people who are fine with beating the snot out of Scarlets or literal hitmen are so concerned about me killing someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph spares him a single glance right then. “This is different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No the fuck it isn’t. Terrible people who did terrible things, who put innocent people in danger? They need to go. Simple as that. And with everything that happened, it’s only right that it’s me.” He grumbles, that fury past his gold eyes never subsiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph finally turns completely toward him, giving him his attention. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>different. Sera, I know what she did to you. I saw it first hand. And… I didn’t stop it.” He admits, feeling his past failures twist in his stomach like a knife still embedded in his flesh. “But with where you are at, you don’t need to do this. You’ve managed to grow. I mean, fuck kid.” He gestures to the building behind them both, where Sera and now Harph have spent days and weeks sleeping in when nowhere else could offer them shelter. “You’ve got an old man in there that cares about you. A whole family. That Eeris punk nearly dropped me on a dime when we met. You’ve got a boyfriend. Is that all really worth risking so that you can turn everyone from your past into a weeks-long bloodsport?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera seems unsatisfied. “This isn’t about me. It’s about her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you should be the one to do it, you said.” Harph looks to him. “You want your… Poetic justice. And I understand that. But if you make that your priority, it is all you will become. Aela won’t be the last of it. Next, it’ll be the rest of the cult. Then it’ll be whoever you deem is just as bad as her.” He crouches slightly, levelling his eyes with his. Silver orbs gazing with gold. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>won't</span>
  </em>
  <span> stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera clenches his jaw. “You don’t fucking know that! Harph, I need this--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do know, Sera! I’ve done it before!” His voice raises, echoing in the empty streets. Causing both of them to be aware of just how loud they were starting to become. A moment of silence blankets the two of them, giving them a second to breathe before they continue. “Just please. Hear us out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera crosses his arms. He doesn’t say a word, still feeling three years worth of fantasies of revenge resting inside of him, waiting to be fulfilled. He just grunts, giving Harph the green light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a while ago. A few hundred years.” Harph begins. “Before I was Harph Lindolf. I was someone else. Different name, different occupation. I helped lead a crew of smugglers, selling contraband to whoever was buying. I loved my crew. They were my family.” His sole hand begins involuntarily shaking, bringing himself back to a past life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day we ran into another crew. I don’t think I could tell you what even happened back then. Some disagreement between us turned into a shouting match. Shouting turned to threats. Threats turned into a gun being fired. Put a hole right through my buddy’s chest.” He wipes his eye and inhales through his nose. “Everyone ran back to their ships before a war broke out. We sailed opposite directions. Our buddy didn’t survive the evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera listens, unconvinced but still giving him time to elaborate. It was tragic, yes, but he waited for how this was relevant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told my crew we’d get them back for this. We could’ve sailed away, accept our losses. But we didn’t. So we tracked them down. Found one of their friends alone in a bar, and…” He stops, swallowing. Wanting to spare the graphic, unnecessary details of the brutal torture they subjected that soul to. “We killed em’. Left them somewhere they’d be found at. And we left.” Harph continues. “But it wasn’t enough. Their whole crew was complacent, we thought. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to go. In my mind, what they did to us earned them that. One was never enough. And so we followed them again. Killed another crew member of theirs. But this time they were ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera perks his ears up curiously. His arms crossed to pretend he was not buying it. Though truthfully captivated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Swords, guns, and knives were drawn. We lost two men before our retreat. And from then on, both of our crews kept tracking each other down. Brief attacks, resulting in either of our people dying. Friends, family. All untimely ends with slit throats and bullet holes. Until it was just me and their captain left, our boats damaged beyond repair on the shore of Stranglethorn.” He looks down to his arm, his chest. Remembering and counting the scars that those days permanently left on his body now. “Me and him fought in the jungle for weeks. Literal weeks. Killing wasn’t enough now. We wanted to torment one another. One would find the other, attack, stab, bleed, then hide again once we realized we didn’t have enough energy to win at that time.” His hand clenches at his side. Then releases, fingers extending outward to help cease his shaking. “But one day I caught him in the middle of the jungle. I broke his arm, thinking I’d like the sound. I slammed his head against a tree. Then I just began driving my knife into his chest. Little by little, it breached his skin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera looks up to him now, noticing the older man’s voice shaking. He can’t hide that he is crying now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It went maybe an inch in, and bit by bit I knew that it’d pierce his heart. But then I look into his eyes. And I know as much as he doesn’t want to die, he isn’t angry at me. He just looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not sorry that he lost, or that he got caught. But sorry that what he did turned me into </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He takes a moment to wipe his eyes clean, clearing his throat to steady himself. He goes quiet after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did you do?” Sera asks, his voice barely a whisper as he considers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only thing I could do right then that’d let me live with myself.” Harph nods. “I let him go. Both of us were beaten to hell, would die without attention. But I pulled the knife out, fell on my ass. And he just got up, held his broken arm with his other hand. And then after a minute of catching our breaths, we started to walk opposite directions.” Harph sniffles, finally finishing the story. “I never saw him again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera stares outward, trying to focus his gaze on anything but Harph at that moment. But he eventually settles down on him, swallowing. “I don’t know if I can just let her go like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph shakes his head. “She won’t be let go. I swear… I know I didn’t do right by you. And by all means, you don’t owe me a second chance. But if I’m given one, I’ll make sure she is put down before she can cause you harm ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seems to have some impact. Sera’s jaw quivers as he feels his neck shake. He looks behind him to the building and decides to finally speak. “I’ll… I’ll talk with everyone.” He mutters. After hearing out Eeris and Iri prior, and now this, he can’t deny that it might hurt everyone in the long run. Including himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph just nods his head, messy purple hair bobbing up and down as relief washes over him. “Alright. She’ll be taken care of since she still poses a threat. But for revenge, or whatever, it shouldn’t be you. Because--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera stops him. “I-I know. It won’t be enough.” He turns around, taking a few steps toward the Waning Flame building. “I think for now, I just need to eat something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harph’s gaze follows him, letting him go. “Of course. Just think on it. Come back to us when you’re ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear Sera’s footsteps continue further behind him until a door creaks open, then clicks shut. Once again he was alone outside. He sighs and sits down, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the canal. While thinking back to that time in Stranglethorn. It was the day that the person Harph was had died, he decided. A man who played a fool’s game that cost his whole family, as well as someone else’s. The person limping away, cut to pieces and mourning his losses was Harph Lindolf. Taking the lessons of a past life with him. He only wishes now that he knew what he knows today. The woman that would find him passed out against the beach was not a savior. She was not a miracle, as much as she appeared to be initially.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knows that now. And even if he made mistakes, remaining complacent in her travesties, he has to make it right by now acting to stop her. Finally taking a stand.</span>
</p>
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